


Dolus

by Squirrel_Kiln



Category: Buzzfeed Unsolved (Web Series)
Genre: Gen, Implied Sexual Content, M/M, Ooh boy love me some true crime
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-24
Updated: 2018-12-08
Packaged: 2019-07-15 20:26:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 10
Words: 13,427
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16070681
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Squirrel_Kiln/pseuds/Squirrel_Kiln
Summary: In which Ricky Goldsworth and C.C. Tinsley have to go back home to solve the gruesome murders of 4 murders and counting.Neither man had really talked about his past, despite the two detectives having worked together for years. With Tinsley is acting suspicious, Goldsworth wants to know what's going on.





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is awkwardly long because I couldn't find the right spot to divide it to two chapters. Enjoy anyway!
> 
> (Implied NSFW

“Detective CC Tinsley, as I live and breathe! Strange seeing you here,” Ricky joked as he walked into his partner's office. “Hope my sick days didn't throw you off balance too much… hey, is everything okay? Looks like Hell came to town and knocked on your door.” It took only a moment to notice CC’s grim expression.

“Hey, Goldsworth. My brother called me and he, uh, he gave me some bad news.” The detective took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes. There were several newspaper articles pinned on his cork boards around the room and beside them different notes in the man's quick handwriting. Must have been a new case.

“You look like crap. I thought I was the sick one here,” Ricky joked. “Good lord, you look down. When was the last time you slept?”

“Um… I don't know. I don't know, what day is it?” CC glanced up at Ricky with tired eyes. Ricky raised an eyebrow. “Just tell me the day, Rick.”

“Thursday,” he finally replied. He checked his watch. “07:34 in the morning. You need to sleep, don't you?”

“Fuck.” CC rubbed his eyes again. “Fuck, okay. Yeah, I do. You're right yet again.”

“I'm always right, baby.” Ricky chuckled and walked over to his side of the desk. He gently brushed hair out of his partner's face and put a hand on his shoulder, but he was shrugged off after a moment. Ricky hid his anger with a sharp inhale of breath.

“My brother-- Morty, you haven't met-- have I told you about him?”

“That you have. I don't know much about him, I'm afraid I missed the family reunion.”

“He's the mayor of Gonos, place not too far south of here.”

“That's an odd name for a town,” Ricky said honestly. “Isn't it past Westview?”

“It's stupid, yeah,” CC agreed with a nod. “It is, just by a few miles. Um… Like I was saying, Morty called me a couple days ago and told me there were some murders in Gonos. Real gruesome, four bodies and counting but they're not sure if that's all of them yet. They’re checking out local missing persons. Local PD couldn't get any hits on anyone to incriminate and Mort’s panicking. He wants us to come by and solve it for him. I would have gone earlier but I didn't want to leave without your opinion, or you.”

“Ah. Is this the case up here?” Ricky nodded towards the boards. CC nodded in response and waved his hand in a ‘ _go ahead_ ’ gesture. Ricky carefully stepped over some boxes to look at the boards. He clasped his hands behind his back as he looked at the pictures of the crime scene. He gnawed on his lip as he read the articles.

“It's fucked up, isn't it?” CC rested his head on his hand. “You know I don't like judging people but this guy's a fucking sicko. Lunatic.”

“Those are some judgemental words, Tinsley.” Ricky looked over his shoulder with a shine in his eyes.

“Shut it, Goldsworth. You sound like the CSI.” CC laughed softly. “What do you think? From what I've been told, he's pretty flawless. No footprints, no belongings, no connections to the victims. Should we take the case?”

“Definitely. Whoever’s doing this is some sort of evil mastermind.” Ricky looked back to the boards.

“Or an organized psychopath. Can't wait to take this fucker out… Okay, we can head out soon if you're ready. It's not too far out, I can drive us there and get there by n--”

“Whoa, whoa, no.” Ricky cut him off. “What _you're_ doing is taking a shower, eating, and getting some rest. Not necessarily in that order. _Then_ we'll leave, and then _I'll_ drive. You've been under way too much stress in such a short period.”

“Come on, Ricky, I'm not in that bad of--!” CC went to protest but one look at his partner's face showed he wasn't going to budge on that. CC sighed and relented. He pushed himself up and let Ricky guide him to the showers.

CC didn't protest as Ricky teasingly insulted him as he stripped his old clothing and turned on the water.

As Ricky's lips met his own he felt some off the stress melt away with the warm water pouring down his body. As he slid his hands down his partner's form, he felt at ease with the situation.

Ricky was right. He _was_ too stressed by this case already and they haven't even started it.

* * *

CC was silently thankful that Ricky forced him to take care of himself. Every time Ricky was out CC forgot how to live outside of the case files that stacked on his desk and filled his mind. Thankfully, Ricky didn't seem to mind babysitting the detective. Sometimes he seemed to like it.

CC slumped in the passenger side door of his car--he was a little annoyed Ricky wouldn't let him drive but he wasn't going to fight it. If Ricky was getting over his fear of driving for him he would take it.

“Thanks for driving. You got the map? It's a confusing trip if you haven't been there before…” CC yawned. He had barely woken up and insisted they leave immediately to work on the case.

“Mmhm. We'll get there in no time, don't worry your pretty little head about it.” Ricky reached over and patted his shoulder, ignoring the folded map on the dashboard. “Sleep more, I can wake you up when we get there.”

“Wh--but you hate silent car rides.”

“They're not silent with your snoring, Tinsley.”

“Eat my dick, Ricky.” CC rolled his eyes. He totally didn't snore, right?

“When we're off the case, sure. Hurry up and sleep, would you? I'll knock you out myself if I have to. Wouldn't be the first time.”

“Ugh, okay, _mom._ Wake me up when we hit the city limits, I'll show you how to get to the police department.” CC pulled his hat over his eyes to try and block the sun.

“You got it, partner. Until then.” Ricky pulled out of the parking lot and started on the journey to Gonos.

Ricky didn't mind driving. He just liked having his hands free just in case and with Tinsley sleeping he had nothing to worry about. He probably wouldn't wake his partner when they arrived anyway, he knew where the PD was. In fact, it was a couple blocks away from Mortus Tinsley’s place of residence. The mayor was a little annoying and cowardly from what Ricky had seen.

Ricky knew exactly where to find evidence that previously stumped the local PD. After all, he was very experienced. He wondered if they taped off the area or cleaned up the blood yet…

Ricky's mind was practically clear on the silent journey. Tinsley did snore. Ricky took the sunglasses the detective always forgot was in his glove box and put them on. He didn't wake him until he was within city limits, in fact, parked right in front of the local PD.

“Hey, Connor. We're here.” Ricky reached out and touched his partner's shoulder. He wasn't surprised when CC jolted awake and reached for his gun instinctively. “Code green, Tinsley.”

“Oh. Oh, fuck, um…” CC grunted and sat up, flexing his back with the result several cracking bones. Ricky liked the noises. “Um, where are we right now?”

“Police station.” Ricky lit a match and then his cigarette.

“Damn it, Goldsworth. I told you to wake me up at the city limits.” CC rubbed his eyes and glanced at his partner. “Window has to be open when you're smoking.”

“But I'm the driver.” He protested.

“And I'm the owner of the car.” He reached over and rolled down the window before his partner could protest more. Ricky rolled his eyes and blew smoke out the window. CC paused where he was in Ricky's lap--he was still exhausted.

“Fine. If you're so worried about the smell you should stop picking people up from bars and raves. They smell like all sorts of bad shit, worse than my cigarettes.” Ricky said nothing about his partner's position.

“They can't get home safe by themselves, Rick. Ugh, fuck. Hold on, we can go inside in a minute.” CC finally pushed himself up and smoothed down his hair. “These guys are a little older fashion than most everyone else.”

“So it's like living in the 1800’s?”

“Um, sure. I guess. 1900’s would be closer.” CC shrugged.

“Of course, excuse me. Are they alright with smoking inside?” Ricky pulled the keys from the ignition and got out. He grabbed the box with their work on the case from the trunk. He placed the box on the closed trunk and snuffed out the cigarette before putting it back in the box.

“I wouldn't doubt it.” CC climbed out and rested against the side of his car. “They don't have ‘no-smoking’ signs anywhere and my brother smokes in his office.”

“Better safe than sorry. Will I have the pleasure of meeting this Morty today?” Ricky rested the box on his hip. It was practically empty empty but it was large enough to be awkward to hold normally.

“Probably. He usually chips in on the investigations.” CC turned and looked at the rather small building. It wasn't surprising, the size of it. They had less than twenty cops in total and less on shift. “Let's go inside and see what they got.”

CC straightened out his trench coat and walked to the door, holding it open for Ricky before following in behind him. His eyes glanced down to the shine on Ricky's gun--he must have cleaned it recently.

“‘Scuse me, ma'am?” CC stopped a uniform that was walking by with a kind smile and a show of his badge. “Detective Tinsley and Goldsworth, we're looking for the mayor or for the sheriff.”

“They're both here. If you follow down that hall--” she paused to turn and point. “They should both be in the room at the end of it.” Ricky couldn't help but hate her out-of-place Southern accent.

“Thank you, sweetie.” CC looked over at Ricky and nodded before following the cop's instructions. Ricky subtly glanced around the department--it looked standard, maybe less. They had a classic Coke machine, so that was interesting. Ricky couldn't help but notice the lack of guns on their hips.

Tinsley knocked on the door at the end of the hall politely. Ricky heard a muddled voice say something, which he assumed was ‘come in’ when CC opened the door.

“Sheriff Millany, it's a pleasure.” CC shook hands with an older man with a shiny sheriff's badge on his chest. Ricky thought his uniform was more like a child's Halloween costume but said nothing. He held the box with both hands so he had an excuse to not shake hands with the man.

“Pleasure’s all mine, detective.” Considering he knew Tinsley’s position beforehand, he figured the mayor told ahead of time of their arrival. Ricky knew this man had to be treasured by the town. His kind voice, the twinkle in his eye, framed newspaper articles, and all the medals on his wall pointed to a loved staple of the community.

“This is my partner, detective Ricky Goldsworth.” Tinsley spread his hand to gesture to Ricky with a smile. Ricky smiled politely and nodded.

“Good afternoon, sheriff.”

“Right back at ya.” Ricky wondered if southern accents were common this far north.

“Say, sheriff, would you happen to know where my brother is?” CC looked around the room. “I was told he'd be in here.”

“Mortus? He should be back any moment.” The sheriff squinted down the hall. “Ah, there he is now.”

“Connor!” Ricky shuddered at hearing his partner's first, real name instead of the abbreviation. He was usually the only one to call him by his first name. He turned to see a man walking through the doorway. He was dressed finely, as if he was attending a seminar instead of a murder investigation.

“Mortus!” CC smiled widely and rushed forward to hug the man.


	2. Chapter 2

When the men pulled apart Ricky immediately noticed the similarities between the two. Same hair color and haircut, same behavior… though Mortus’ smile wasn't as good. He wasn't as handsome and looked younger though just as tired as his brother. He had a set of circular glasses that looked almost as frail as the man himself.

“It's been too long, brother. Much too long.” Mortus Tinsley clasped his hand on CC’s shoulder with a large grin.

“You're absolutely right. I guess we're both too busy, huh?” The men laughed. “Please, meet my partner.”

“Detective Goldsworth!” The mayor smiled at Ricky without even hearing his name. Looks like their reputation preceded them in this town. “I've heard so much about you. Connor can  _ not  _ praise you enough.”

Ricky raised his eyebrows and turned his attention to his partner, who avoided eye contact with a reddened face.

“Is that so? It's nice to finally meet you. You'll have to tell me some stories to embarrass him.”

“Wh--Rick, come on!” CC groaned.

“Oh, with  _ pleasure.” _ Mortus had the sick grin only a sibling could have at the thought of torturing their sibling.

“Damn it. Okay, okay, come on, let's be professional. That box is all the two of us have got right now, so we'd like to see what you have on this case.”

“We might have nothing,” Mortus said miserably, his mood dropping. Ricky hid his smile.

“That's alright, we've worked with less.” Ricky winked at his partner.

“Right. Sheriff? If you wouldn't mind showing detective Goldsworth the evidence. I need to pull Connor aside for a moment.”

“Sure thing. Right this way, sir.” The sheriff gave Ricky a polite smile and shuffled past the brothers. Ricky gave his partner a faux unsure, even anxious look before walking after the sheriff. Might as well make him feel guilty for leaving him with some weird people before he left.

“I dunno how much y’all have but this is everything on the case.” The sheriff stepped into a rather small boardroom with a single board of evidence. A folding table was set out with some other papers on it. Ricky placed the box down and looked it all over.

“This is all?” Ricky looked back up at him.

“This is all.” He confirmed with a nod. “Can I get you anythin’? Maps? Coffee?”

“Mm… no, thank you.” Ricky turned back to the board of evidence. “You allow smoking in here?”

“Sure. Long as you put it in the ashtray on the sill over there. Now, I'll be in the building if you need me but any of my officers will do just fine to answer questions.”

“Before you go, what's your number? In case I have any questions in the field.” Ricky smiled politely. The sheriff smiled and handed him a mildly busted up business card.

“Got my desk phone and my cell phone. Better try my desk first.” Ricky nodded and tucked the card into a pocket of his jacket. 

“Thank you, sheriff. Have a nice one.” Ricky continued to smile at the sheriff until he left. His smile dropped and he scoffed at the pathetic amount of evidence in the room and hardly even subpar police work. He wished he could tell the PD what he thought of them but Tinsley insisted he play nice with the uniforms. After all, the two were guests.

Ricky re-lit the cigarette he had outside and blew the smoke ahead of him as he looked over the evidence.

The board held crime scene pictures and transcripts of witness reports held up by push pins. Ricky let out a slow breath.

_ They got it wrong,  _ was what he thought.

He spent the rest of his alone time taking down the things on the board and organizing them on the table. He put up the important pieces and put a couple on the trash since they were basically useless.

Ricky was looking over the coroner reports when CC walked in. Thankfully, without his brother. The man looked irritated.

“Sorry for the wait. Were you okay alone?”

“Sure. I only cried a little bit.”

“Oh, hush. What have we got?”

“Well,  _ Connor, _ ” Ricky stressed his name in a teasing manner. “Nothing. They had some flooding after the murders so basically all they have are the bodies. Even then, a lot of them had been jacked up by the exposure.”

“Were all the bodies outside?” CC scanned the report when Ricky handed it to him.

“Mmhm. Seems like they were killed on scene.” Ricky took a deep breath from his cigarette.

“Those things are gonna kill you before any criminal can,” CC eyed him warily. Ricky blew the smoke in his face before kissing him.

“That's what I'm hoping for, baby.” He whispered against his partner's lips. He dropped the butt of the cigarette into the ashtray.

“Right…” CC seemed to pause for a moment before snapping back to attention. “We got time of deaths?”

“Sorta. I have a feeling they're wrong, though, or maybe biased… the coroner who did the report doesn't seem too consistent. They're not all complete.”

“I see what you mean.” CC nodded and put the reports down. “Think we should see the bodies for ourselves?”

“Doesn't seem like we have anything better to do. I'll start up the car.”


	3. Chapter 3

The short ride to the hospital and morgue didn't leave much room for conversation, though it wasn't like either man had tried. Ricky was going to ask what he and his brother had talked about but figured Tinsley wasn't in the mood for it.

Tinsley held the incomplete autopsy reports in his lap in a large manilla folder. Ricky flipped a playing card between his fingers with his free hand.

“I still hate the morgue. Have I said that before?” Tinsley grunted before climbing out of the car.

“Once or twice.” Ricky smiled while he shoved down the urge to light another cigarette. “You know where the office is?”

“Mmhm. Did you look at the name of the coroner on the report?”

“What? I guess I didn't, no. Why do you ask?”

“You'll find out when we get there. Don't laugh when you hear his name, he gets very upset.” Despite his own words Tinsley was obviously trying to not laugh already at the thought of his name. Ricky wondered what was so funny.

“This place feels like an amusement park,” Ricky muttered. The decorations of the hospital were what he imagined a child's daycare to look like, if it was in a TV set. 

“Play nice, now.” Tinsley put his hand on Ricky's back to guide him. Ricky had a feeling he also just wanted to touch him for comfort. “They care about their history. They're very sensitive here.”

“You're telling me.” Ricky murmured under his breath and ignored the look he got from his partner for it.

And finally, Tinsley paused at a door with frosted glass. Before Ricky could read the nameplate beside it Tinsley stepped in.

“Dr. Fear?” CC was already trying his hardest not to laugh. Ricky fake coughed and put his fist to his mouth to hide his own snickering.

“Yes? Who are you?” Both detectives realized this was going to be annoying right off the bat. He was already glaring up at them as if they interrupted his very important time organizing… paper clips by… color?

“Detective Tinsley and Goldsworth.” As if on cue, since it was, both men pulled their IDs from their pockets and flashed it to the man. He put on an old set of glasses that looked thicker than his hand to study them. When he was satisfied he sat back in his chair and pressed his fingers together like a villain.

“What do you need?” The man's voice was thick with an accent Ricky couldn't quite place.

“We're here to look at the bodies of the recent victims.” Ricky could say he admired Tinsley’s professional talk. The doctor's face lit up with what could only be inappropriate excitement.

“Ah! Why did you not say so sooner? Of course,” the doctor talked as he ruffled in the drawer of his desk. He pulled out a loaded keychain and quickly rushed past the detectives, who then had to walk quickly to keep up with the man.

“ _ This  _ is your coroner?” Ricky hissed to CC.

“He's the only one licensed for it in town,” CC didn't sound any more excited about it. “He'll probably resign soon enough. It's not like this place has crime very often.”

The three men had to stop when the coroner couldn't seem to remember which key unlocked the morgue. After way too much time testing keys, he found the door already unlocked and walked in. Ricky and CC shared a look of sarcastic excitement before following suit.

“I was told you have four bodies,” Tinsley immediately showed signs of uncomfort. He hadn't fully explained why he hated morgues specifically but Ricky figured it was some childhood experience.

“I did. One family wanted the body cremated immediately, but whatever. That one was most affected by the water anyways. I still have the other three.”

“Were all the bodies caught in the flooding?” Tinsley slid his hand in his coat pockets. Ricky figured he was fidgeting with a coin or something.

“All but one.” Dr. Fear, who still hadn't bothered to give a first name, pulled a body out of the wall. “Jeremy Valery. He came back for a break from college last week.”

“Do you have a time of death?” Ricky asked.

“About four, five AM last Tuesday the sixteenth.”

_ Wrong. _

“Ah. We didn't get the full reports, would you have those here?” Tinsley had his customer service voice on.

“I can answer your questions now.” They figured that translated to,  _ I didn't do the proper work or I can't be bothered to get it. _

“How many lacerations on Valery?”

“Seven deep ones. The first one--” The doctor gestured to a very thick cut starting from the neck and going down to mid chest. “--was the cause of death.”

“The other six look like… tally marks.” Tinsley furrowed his eyebrows as he stared at the body. “Can we see the other bodies?”

“You're not going to eat for a while after seeing these,” even the doctor had a grimace as he removed another body. “Jesse Boaz.” The detectives, even having seen worse in the past, took a tentative step away.

“Five on this one. Four… is this a countdown?” Tinsley pulled out a handkerchief and pressed it over his nose and mouth as he squinted at the corpses.

“Maybe numbering how many victims there are. Did the other body have marks like this?”

“You bet. Three on it.”

“Does this… does this mean there's two bodies we haven't found?” Tinsley looked over at his partner. Ricky crossed his arms to his chest.

“Either that or there's two men who are in danger and we don't even know.” Ricky sighed and feigned concern. Everyone's heads turned to the desk when the phone on it began to ring. Dr. Evil walked over to it and answered, talking in hushed tones before looking up at the two men.

“Detective Tinsley,” he spoke with a confused voice and held out the phone to the detective. “They're asking for you.”

“Detective Tinsley here,” the man spoke as soon as he got the phone. He listened intently before getting a grave look on his face.

“What's wrong?” Ricky frowned. Tinsley said his thank yous and hung up. His fingers lingered on the phone's back before he spoke carefully.

“They found another body. We were too late.”


	4. Chapter 4

Ricky was surprised.

The body was found after a day of sitting in the open. How had no one seen it earlier? Sure, it was a less traversed area but he was in the street.

“With this one we get to see the scene,” Tinsley said. He didn't bother saying it was on the brightside. He didn't like lying. He was especially upset now,  presumably because he could have been in town yesterday when the man was killed instead of the day after. He was always blaming himself…

Ricky kept his mouth shut as they walked back to the car. Any interaction would likely sour his partner's mood further.

CC took the driver's seat this time. When they had settled down in the seat the man slammed his hands against the wheel.

“There's nothing you could have done,” Ricky eventually said, calm as possible.

“We have even less time now, Goldsworth!”

“No. We don't.” Ricky growled. “Now are you gonna act like a kid who didn't get his candy or are you gonna be the fucking detective that's gonna help these people?” Ricky didn't get pissed too easily. Mad, sure, but not far. His partner stared at him for a few long moments.

“... I'm sorry. You're right. I'm sorry.” Tinsley shut his eyes and rested his forehead on the wheel.

“What exactly did your brother talk to you about?” Ricky had a feeling this was the stem of his partner's agitation.

“Nothing important.” He muttered.

“Connor, don't you fucking  _ dare  _ tell me it was nothing. You say that again you might as well spit in my face like I haven't been partners with you for years now.” Well, now he was pissed.

CC was silent. He was silent for so long, Ricky almost asked if he had started to cry.

“Rick, I love my brother more than anything but… I can't talk about this right now.” His voice was very quiet, very meek. “If I talk about it now I'll fall apart and--” the man's voice cracked. “I need to finish this job.”

Ricky silently reached over and took Connor's hand. He squeezed it hard.

“I didn't give up on you back then, Connor. I'm not going to give up on you now.”

“Thank you.”

“I took a vow to you like I took this job, CC.”

“You make that sound as if we're married…” CC snorted and sat up. Ricky frowned when he realized the man's eyes were wet. He wiped the tears away with his sleeve before pulling out of the parking lot to go to the crime scene. Ricky said nothing this time.

Sure, CC hated morgues. It was only because of the smell-- mix of death and sterilization that didn't quite mix or overpower the other. When they got to the crime scene the smell of the body was hardly the worst of their problems.

A few policemen were quickly trying to guide people away from the scene and others were trying to keep birds away from the corpse. CC parked the car on the side of the street.

“Let's go get them some help,” CC said with a sigh. The two climbed out of the car together and flashed their IDs before ducking under the police tape.

“Excuse me, everyone, this is a federal investigation.” Tinsley’s announcing voice was strong and loud. “We're going to ask that you go home to prevent damage to the crime scene. If you think you may have seen something, contact the police department immediately. Am I clear?”

The small town dynamics Tinsley knew well came into effect. Though they glared at him and whispered the small crowd dispersed and left.

“Makes you wonder, huh? Why people like looking at these things.” Sheriff Millany came up beside the men with a sigh.

“Morbid curiosity. It's an evolutionary thing.” CC turned around to the sheriff. “You told me there was something you couldn't say over the phone?”

The sheriff's eyes looked incredibly sad.

“His name is--his name was Peter Rhea. He was one of our own,” his voice cracked. “I'm sorry. I'm--”

“It's okay, Joseph, take all the time you need.” CC spoke softly. He wondered if he already knew the sheriff and if so, why he didn't show signs of it earlier. The sheriff pressed his fist to his mouth and took some deep breaths.

“I knew his mama. She was so scared of him going into the force, said it was too dangerous. I looked her in the eyes and told her nothing would happen to her boy.” The man couldn't seem more heartbroken.

“It's okay. You can go back to the station if you need, we'll wrap it up from here.” After CC finished talking, the sheriff nodded and walked to his car while avoiding the body at any cost.

“He seems pretty broken up.” Ricky watched him go.

“You would be too, it you watched a kid grow up... and then see him die when he's supposed to be protected by you. You weren't born in a small town so you wouldn't get the dynamics.” CC had a distant look. He got that sometimes. Ricky was upset he still didn't know much about his partner after all this time. Maybe he'd get his brother to spill.

“Maybe so, maybe so… alright. Let's get this over with so they can bag ‘im up.” Ricky walked over to the body. He accepted gloves from a nearby uniform and pulled back the tarp. Though the man was still clothed it was obvious where the murderer had left his marks. Two bloodied marks showed the similar markings as the other bodies but something was different.

“He was strangled?” Ricky jumped when he heard his partner speak. He hadn't realized he was there.

“Looks like it,” Ricky coughed. “I think the stabbings were the cause of death, though… this guy is really something.”

“Maybe you're right. One thing's for sure, though. He's devolving.” CC didn't see Ricky's glare because of how focused he was on the body. “His sadistic tendencies are showing through the stabbings. I think they began as a show and dance but ended in him realizing what he really wanted. This guy must be pretty experienced.”

“... Right.” Ricky stepped away from the body.

“Hey, Goldsworth. Look at that.” Tinsley sucked in a breath. Lying just under the head of the body was half a cigarette. Ricky's breath caught. “It's so drowned in blood I doubt it would get DNA but we have to try. This guy doesn't look like he smokes.”

“Good eye, Tinsley.” Ricky forced himself to relax though his heart didn't stop racing. “Let's get back to the station and get a profile for this guy.”

_ He won't know _ , Ricky thought.  _ I won't let him. _


	5. Chapter 5

As promised, Tinsley put the cigarette in one of the evidence bags. ‘It seems go be soaked in the blood of the victim,’ he had said. ‘Hopefully we can differentiate the DNA.’

Ricky struggled to subdue his rage. How the hell did that cigarette get there? Hell, how did CC see it? Outwardly he forced himself to be all smiles. It would be rude otherwise.

Ricky convinced CC that they should eat before going back to the evidence.

“I don't think they have any fast food ‘round here, just restaurants.” CC rapped his fingers on the wheel.

“So we eat in. That's probably better, we're both a little tense. A moment of calm should be good. Some small town diner would be good stress relief.” Ricky really couldn't care less. A thought ran across his mind-- _ that tapping is so annoying. Cut the fingers off. _ He ignored it.

“But the--no. No, you're right. Loughlin’s is down the road, they have good food. I go there every time I come visit.”

“This is your birthtown, isn't it?” Ricky took a wild guess. It was pretty obvious but he hadn't heard it directly from the man before. CC slowly nodded.

“Yeah. It's different than the last time I came here.”

“And when was that?”

Tinsley didn't respond. He slowed the car down and turned to the side of the road. When Ricky looked out the window, a whole block was torn down with signs of upcoming construction plans. When he looked back to his partner, he was close to tears or perhaps rage.

“But… that was--did they move?” He whispered under his breath. Ricky figured the dirt lot used to be  _ Loughlin’s _ .

“I'm sorry,” Ricky said quietly. CC pursed his lips.

“Are you okay with dropping by the hotel first?” CC’s voice made it obvious it wasn't up for debate.

“It's okay, Tinsley. Let's go rest up.” Ricky shifted so his body blocked the view of the lot. The man drove away quickly, leaving a screech in their wake.

The ride was silent again. Ricky liked silence but not like this.

Ricky checked them into the hotel, flirting up the girl at the counter. It was probably inappropriate considering her age but he liked watching her get flustered. Tinsley didn't mention how annoyed he got at that.

They walked into the room and Tinsley put his jacket down over the back of a chair. He scowled at how amplified the light was in the room.

“So,” Ricky said as he shut the door. “What now?”

CC shoved Ricky against the door and smashed their lips together. Ricky had the largest grin as his hands worked to unbutton his partner's shirt.

“This isn't what I meant by rest, you know,” Ricky's voice was breathy against his partner's lips.

“I need some stress relief,” he practically growled back.

* * *

 

Ricky finally understood why people got upset when he used them a while ago. He had been trying to enter a relationship with his partner for a while at that point--he was either extremely oblivious or didn't care enough to advance that far. CC  _ was _ always thinking about his reputation, his job more than relationships…

Getting angry right now wasn't part of the plan. Distracting Tinsley for a couple hours was.

Ricky hadn't bothered to get dressed or rise from the bed, though his eyes focused directly on CC as he spoke quietly into the phone.

“... Yes. 120. No, just right in front of my door if you can. If there's a problem call me. Yes. That's all, thank you.” He finally hung up.

“Well, that didn't sound like room service,” Ricky said plainly.

“Because it wasn't. I was asking the sheriff to drop off the evidence here so we don't have to run between here and the police station.”

“Smart. You know, for a small town, it takes a while to get places.” Ricky yawned.

“Small population, big area,” CC reminded him. “Don't you want to get dressed?”

“Mm. Maybe later. My legs hurt.”

“... Sorry.”

“That's not what I meant--” Ricky laughed. “I worked out too hard the other day, I was helping a pal fix his house.”

“Is that why your hand is scarred?”

_ Shit. _

Ricky had figured the man had too much going on in that tumbled up brain of his to notice the fresh cuts on Ricky's left hand.

“Yeah. I told you about my friend Orpheus, right? He redesigns houses and shit. We spent a lot of time breaking things down and a board with nails fell on me… lucky me, right?” Ricky laughed. His heart was beating hard and fast in his throat. He felt as if the muscle was going to burst from his throat like a bird freed from the cage. He felt as if it would sing of his sins and of all the lies he spoke with his cursed tongue.

But all that happened was Tinsley giving an acknowledging grunt before falling back into his thoughtful silence. Ricky let out the breath that had been suffocating him and rubbed his eyes with his scarred hand. He held his hand a few inches from his face to look at the four uneven cuts sliding from his knuckle to the veins at the base of his wrist.

The other night, Ricky had spent so much time running that he hadn't realized they were there. There was a fight he wasn't expecting. He didn't know he was bleeding until the cuts began stinging and dripping onto the floor of his car that he drove fast as possible home. He didn't have time to cover it until he got home late late at night.

“You need me to take care of those?” CC spoke up again. His voice showed that he was distracted.

“No, thanks… usually I'm the one who had to take care of you,” he said playfully.

“Maybe so, maybe so.” CC’s smile was in his voice. “... We have yet to eat.”

“Do you want me to go get something?” Ricky pushed himself to sit with a grunt. A stray breeze hit his bare chest and caused a harsh shiver to run through his body.

“No, it's fine. You should rest for a bit.” CC immediately was at attention. Of course, the one thing to get his attention was his empathy.

“God, your helpfulness is gonna kill you someday.” He laughed. Ricky moved his legs over the side of the bed and got on his feet with a groan of pain. He pulled his clothes back on (considering neither man had bothered to bring their bags with them into the room) and grabbed CC’s keys.

“You can drive?”

“I got my licence fair and square, no matter what the DEA claims.” Ricky took a look in the ratty mirror perpendicular to the door and ruffled his own hair. Tinsley said it looked neater when it was messy.

Ricky hummed as he twirled the keychain around on his finger. It moved fast enough to the point that there was no noise. He couldn't quite identify the song he hummed, all he knew was that he heard it a long long time ago and it never left his brain.

Ricky winked at the girl at the desk he had already forgotten the name of on his way out. He sat down in the driver's seat of CC’s car and put the car in ignition.

He reclined the seat to get access to his bag in the back seat. He took out the bag he held his grooming kit in and sat back up. In the mirror on the underside of the sun visor, he combed his hair back until it looked pristine. He brushed his teeth with a disposable toothbrush. He reapplied his cologne--the one that everyone else liked, not the one Tinsley did. He cleaned his face with a wipe. 

Ricky Goldsworth gave himself a perfect smile in his reflection. He put everything back in its place and put the disposables in a plastic bag he would throw out the next time he reached a garbage bin.

Ricky pulled out a finely finished box and rested it on the edge of his lap. The entire thing was smooth, although there were nicks and scratches from all its faithful years of use. Ricky slid back the cover to reveal several of his favorite knives.

The sky was getting dark already but the streetlamp nearby allowed enough light to see them. Not that Ricky needed light to know which knife was which, where it was placed or its condition…

Ricky picked out a big carving one. His favorite one, a pale purple akin to mauve. He placed the knife in his lap, closer to his stomach, shut the box, and put the box back into his bag.

Ricky fastened his seat belt, because he was a law-abiding citizen, and wiped some dried blood off the blade. He placed the knife in the arm rest and plucked a business card from the pocket of his jacket. He squinted at the number as he typed it into his phone. He placed the phone between his shoulder and ear as he drove out of the hotel parking lot.

“Sheriff Millany? Hello, it's detective Goldsworth… no, sorry, just me. I was just wondering if you could tell me some place to eat… Sorry, I'm bad at directions, can we meet up instead? Yeah, that's great. Thanks, I'm on the road. See you there.”


	6. Chapter 6

“Sheriff!” Ricky called out. He had followed the sheriff in his car to a local restaurant (tragically not Loughlin’s) and parked nearby. He parked close to the exit. He parked far from the cameras or the windows.

“My, son, I know you feds like being paranoid but you don't have to act like a stranger!” Sheriff Millany gave a hearty laugh. Ricky wondered if he played Santa for his children, though they were probably long gone to college by now.

“Sorry. Tinsley told me to be ready in case of a lead.” Ricky gave an apologetic smile as he grew closer. Standing under the streetlight in the quickly dimming light, Ricky thought, the man looked like he belonged on the cover of a book. Even from the distance Ricky could see he was holding a small folder.

“That's alright.” The man waited patiently until Ricky reached sidewalk. He was anxious to feel the weight of his knife in his hand but he'd have to wait. Just a little longer. Just a  _ little _ longer.

“Tinsley told me there was this place called Loughlin’s that was pretty good but it was gone when we got there.” At Ricky's words, the man grew visibly upset. He held open the door for Ricky. The detective noticed the sheriff was already in civilian clothes, though he was still wearing his gun and presumably his badge.

“Damn shame. Family business, that was, been in town since… why, it's been here before the town was!” He gave a laugh despite his sorrow. “The daddy died a while back, mama tried to keep the place runnin’ but all by herself… it was just too much for her. Bout seven years ago, the place was bought up by some theatre company and they tore it down immediately.”

_ Seven years?  _ Ricky thought.  _ Connor said he was there every time… how interesting. _

“I'm sorry to hear that.” Ricky said empathetically. The sheriff led him to a booth by a window. Ricky was pleased to see his car wasn't visible from the seat.

“Me too. I swear, corps ain't got no respect for a good ol’ family business.”

“I agree. Very sorry again.” Ricky heard a step toward them and flipped the mug on the table over so the open side was up. A moment later a waitress walked over with a fresh brew.

“Good evening, sheriff.” The girl said with a smile. Millany turned his cup over as well and she filled both of them.

“Evening, Claire. Your night been going well?”

“Sure has, sheriff. Nice and busy, as you can tell.” Claire gestured to the empty restaurant with a giggle. She looked high school age, maybe older.

“You get admitted to Harvard yet?” He asked jokingly.

“Sheriff, please. I'm waiting till I'm 22 to try college. One year left~” She sung before laughing. “Can I get you anything to eat?”

“Hm… you got any cream pie left? The coconut kind?”

“That we do, just a couple pieces left.”

“What do you say, detective? You ready for some pie?”

“Sounds good, sheriff.” At Ricky's voice, the waitress jumped. She seemed to have forgotten he was there. She took a look at Ricky and seemed flustered before quickly walking back to the counter. Ricky chuckled--he had that effect on girls her age. Probably not the most appropriate effect, but it was there. It's not like Ricky could help being handsome.

“She's a sweetheart. Born and raised here, she's trying to get some money for college.” The sheriff seemed relaxed again as if their earlier conversation hadn't occurred.

“She seems nice,” he commented vaguely enough. “Now, you said you had something to show me..?”

“Oh! Right. Here.” Millany placed the file he had been holding on the table and slid it to Ricky. While Ricky opened the folder, the man poured two mini cups of creamer into his coffee followed by two bags of sugar.

“What am I looking at?” It was obviously a DNA report. Ricky held his black coffee to his lips. Claire placed two glass plates of coconut cream pie in front of them before scurrying off.

“That cigarette butt your partner found? We got a match.” Ricky's hand stopped. He hadn't even taken a drink.

“Did you, now?” He asked normally.

“Mmhm. Connected to some guy named--get this--Orpheus Goldsworth. You know him?”

“I suppose it's not as rare of a surname as I thought… no, I don't know him off hand…” Ricky swallowed his coffee hard. It burned the flat of his tongue and the back of his throat. Still, he let out a sigh of relief.

“He's some felon out in Chicago, got picked up a couple times for mob activity. I don't know what he's doing down here but he might be the cause of all this.”

“I'm impressed. Your department does good work, sheriff.”

“Ah, well, about that…” The man looked embarrassed, upset even. “Bad news is the power went out. Just a flash, but it erased our data. Thankfully, we got this printed out before hand but it's all we got. The cigarette has been tried and tried again but we can't get the data again.”

“I'm sorry to hear that. Don't worry, we'll put this to good use.” Ricky smiled. The man in front of him seemed relieved and smiled, ate some of his pie. While the pie was eaten, the two talked idly about this and that and Ricky learned more about the town. He couldn't give less of a shit and was just ready to strangle himself to get out of the conversation.

“Say, sheriff, I wanted to ask you about something. You mind showing me it?”

“Depends on what it is. It's a little late, places are closing up about now.” The sheriff tipped back the rest of his coffee.

“That's fine. I just saw this park and was wondering if you could show me it some. Tinsley was going to walk me through but he's been busy.”

“Oh! That's the same park named after the Loughlins. Sure, it's a few blocks down. We could walk there and back in about ten minutes.” He pushed himself up and took out his wallet. He placed the money on the table like he knew the exact amount the food and coffee was, which Ricky didn't doubt he did.

Ricky walked away from the table and his untouched pie, his coffee with a single sip taken from it.

Sheriff Millany hummed a jolly tune when he wasn't talking about local attractions like a tour guide. Eventually, Ricky stopped them at a gazebo. There wasn't any light nearby, Ricky could barely see the other man's face.

“Sheriff, can I see that file again?” Ricky asked calmly.

“Sure thing, though you won't be able to see it in the dark. Why'd you want to stop here?” Millany handed over the file. Ricky ran his hand over his hair, brought a bandana he had just put around his neck over the bottom half of his face.

“Just because. You make your peace with God, sheriff?” Ricky neatly folded the report and stuffed it into his pocket.

“Excuse me?” The man was reasonably confused. He squinted at Ricky in the dim lighting.

“You go to church?”

“Every Sunday mass when I can… what are you getting at, detective? Everything alright?”

“Everything is perfect.” The knife slid into the man's belly so smoothly it was pleasing, though shocking to the man in front of him. Millany’s eyes were wide with shock and his mouth fell open in a gasp.

“ _ May the God of hope fill you with all joy and peace in believing _ ,” Ricky recited in a shaky whisper. The man gasped and fumbled for his gun but Ricky had taken it off him long ago. “ _ So that by the power of the Holy Spirit you may abound in hope _ . It's all horse shit, though, isn't it? When people like me still exist. We'll always exist.”

Sheriff Millany’s knees crumpled. Ricky forced the knife upwards. Again, it glided nicely. It was  _ made  _ for this, after all. Ricky thought for a moment and plucked the Nokia flip phone from the dying man's shirt pocket.

“It's nothing personal, sheriff,” Ricky cooed as the man's body fell to the ground. The dim lighting didn't allow Ricky to view his work in full which was very disappointing. He'd have to make do listening to the gasps of the dying man as his hands made a fruitless attempt to keep all the blood in. Ricky's heart rate was up and in his ears, excitedly so. “I was born this way, after all. I was  _ born _ sick.”

Ricky relished in the moment. He kneeled down besides the man, getting his pant leg wet with blood, and forced the dying man to lie flat on his back.

“All those wasted Sundays… don't you wish your God could save you now?” Ricky cooed. He wished he could leave more cuts in the body but he had to keep to his pattern. His countdown.  _ One. _ The final day.

His pleasure was interrupted by a noise in the brush. Ricky looked over at it for a moment before casually standing up and walking away. He walked further into the park, changed with the clothes he had planted in the trees last time he was here. He cleaned his hands in a pond.

He walked back to the car as if he really had been taking a walk. The sheriff's car sat empty in front of the building. He didn't give it much thought, the shitty PD would take care of that. Maybe they'd assume he got a little tipsy at dinnertime and walked home to his wife in his house with a picket fence a few meters from his wraparound porch.

Ricky drove away and picked up food from another place. He charmed the waitress as usual before heading back to the hotel to see his partner again.

Although he was marked ' _ one _ ’ the sheriff hadn't been the intended victim. The real target, one Mr. Tinsley, was a little occupied at the moment. He could wait.

Ricky was a very patient man. He'd wait however long he wanted, however long he needed to get the kill.


	7. Chapter 7

Tinsley hadn't considered how hungry he was until he looked up at the clock to see Ricky had been gone for about forty-five minutes now. Almost an hour… it definitely didn't take that long to get food in _this_ town.

He sighed and sat back in the chair that hurt his back. He was still too tall for this damn place…

CC tried calling his partner and got voicemail immediately, same thing when he went to ask Sheriff Millany a question. He could, of course, ask the other uniforms but… it felt too personal. He hardly recognized any of them.

Connor looked at the desk calendar. _June 20th,_ it read in some default cursive font simple enough to read yet still annoying to look at.

 _It's been five days and I have five bodies,_ the man thought miserably. _And I have no evidence of anything, no witnesses, no suspects… I just hope the killer won't end on some poor guy tonight._

A sharp knock on the door snapped CC out of his thoughts, threw him off memory lane.

He got up quickly to answer it before hesitating. He checked the peep hole and relaxed when he saw his partner. He fumbled with the cold lock to get the door open.

“Sorry I'm late, met the cutest doll down at… whatever place I went at.” Ricky winked and held up bags of take-out and coffee he was struggling to hold. “Hope you're in the mood for a wrap.”

“I don't mind,” he said with a smile while stepping aside to let Ricky in the room. He shut the door behind him and locked it tight.

“I figured as much. I got you pie, too, blueberry. No need to thank me,” Ricky said in the voice that made it obvious he wanted to be thanked.

“Thaaaank youuuu.” Tinsley relieved him of the coffee and bags. He shoved aside the work he'd been doing to make space for it on the table.

“Oh, come on, not even a thank-you kiss?” Ricky pouted. Tinsley laughed and kissed his forehead. “What about a thank-you bj?”

“Don't push it, Rick.” He rolled his eyes, still smiling.

“How's everything going over here? Did you find the muffin man yet?” Ricky took a look at his partner's notebooks and papers. “Oh, the sheriff dropped these off? I was wondering why I saw him so close by. I sat by him in the diner for a bit… he told me some pretty interesting stuff.”

“Like what?” Tinsley say down and opened the box marked with a ‘T’ to observe the food. “Aw, nice. I love chicken wraps.”

“Loughlin’s shut down seven years ago.” Tinsley froze at his words. “You said you visited every time you came home and yet you didn't know that? What the hell made you stay away from here for seven years, Connor?”

“You ask a lot of questions for a man as solitary as yourself.” He answered quietly. “Let me eat in peace.”

“No.”

“Persistent, too.” Tinsley gave Ricky a dark glare.

“Stop fucking around. What happened here?” Ricky kept eye contact.

“... Mortus still lives in the house we grew up in,” Tinsley said as he wiped sauce off his hands. “He's always been sentimental.”

“Most people are.” Ricky crossed his arms tight to his chest.

“You don't understand the desperation of a small town. The ache to fit in and yet stand out. My pa wanted me to be on the force, mom wanted me to be a butcher.”

Ricky drew in his breath. He never talked about his family.

“Mortus is my twin, which you could probably tell. Good man, good husband. I've never met my sister-in-law, you know, never met my niece Valerie. I was a fuck up. I was different, and not the different that makes you mysterious and popular with girls. No, it was the different that made the church think you would burn in hell and never find love. It was obvious since I was a kid, maybe 12. I was different, Ricky, and everyone knew it.”

“... They found out you were gay,” Ricky said in a moment of realization. Tinsley hung his head miserably over the Styrofoam food box and gave a nod.

“Small towns are always so harsh. Always so religious. When people don't want you around, you know immediately… I didn't go to my mother's funeral, you know? She told everyone she wouldn't rest if I had, if I had ruined the sanctuary of church with my sin. So I didn't.” Connor's hands were clenched. “Last time I came here was to visit her grave, a week after her funeral.”

“And your father?”

“... He's in the hospital right now. Lung cancer. I don't think he'd want to see me otherwise. I sent him a letter but he never responded.”

“And Mortus?” Tinsley winced at the name. Surely, his twin brother would be a shine of hope.

“He's… convinced himself I've given up being gay in change for being a detective. I'm not going to tell him otherwise.”

“You should.”

“You must not have heard me. I _can't.”_ Tinsley sighed. “I told you earlier how this place was old fashioned. Well, he never rejected the life. He didn't care that everyone was so orthodox in the Christian beliefs. He thrived in it, was a choir boy, did charity work, the whole nine yards. He told me I should attend church soon as if the past never happened.”

Tinsley ran his hands through his hair. Ricky reached over to reassuringly pat his shoulder, though the man flinched away as if he had been hit. “I'm sorry.”

“No, don't be… you know, it's not everyday you get murders like this down here. This may be your last chance to make amends with your father and your brother before we leave. And I think you know you won't come back but are hoping I won't push it.”

“That obvious?” He muttered.

“It's okay, Tinsley. You're not alone this time.” Ricky gently placed his hand over Tinsley’s fist.

“... After the investigation. When we get this son of a bitch behind bars… then I'll tell Mortus.”

“That may not be enough time… and your father?”

“... Visiting hours are over. I'll tell him tomorrow, if he's still holding on.” Connor sighed. Ricky moved his chair over closer to him and hugged his partner. He retaliated by clutching the man desperately, like he would disappear if he let go.

“Okay. That works fine…”

“I'm sorry, Ricky.”

“It's alright, we're all vulnerable someti--”

“That's not what I meant. I've been treating you unfairly because of my cowardly fears.” Ricky's chest swelled with pride at his words. “... We'll need to have a long talk after the case.”

“I'm okay with that.” Ricky tried not to sound overly excited but it slipped through. Tinsley chuckled.

“Don't sound too excited. It could be about, like, communism or something.”

“There's the Connor I know,” Ricky teased. Tinsley raised his head to smile at him before kissing him softly.

“Can I eat now?”

“You always ruin the best moments, you know that?” Ricky sighed. “Fine… only if I can have some of your pie.”

“I think I can live with that.”


	8. Chapter 8

_Mortus Tinsley._ Twin brother of Connor C. Tinsley, born December 30th, mayor of Gonos.

He lived in 258 Chance Road with his wife Clementine and his 4 year old daughter Valerie. Every week, Friday afternoon, he'd visit his father (David Tinsley) in the hospital.

Ricky ran over these details in his head as he tentatively sipped from his cup of hot chocolate. Early morning, he was reclining in the driver's seat of Tinsley’s car. He had his eyes shut and the windows open, taking deep breaths of the air between drinks. The two had gone over information last night. CC had called the PD and asked if they had the DNA results on the cigarette yet.

_“We did but we lost it in a power surge. The sheriff had the only copy of it, you should ask him for it.” A uniform answered._

_“He hasn't answered all night. Is he in right now?”_

_“No, he left a few hours ago. Didn't say what for. I'll let you know when he comes back.”_

_“You do that. Thank you, have a nice night.” The call ended._

_“That's strange, I wonder why he left so early, and with the report…” Tinsley muttered to himself after he had ended the call._

_“Yeah. I wonder.” Ricky observed his hands and wiped off a bit of ash from the DNA report he had burned to nothingness in an abandoned bird bath. “We'll just have to ask tomorrow.”_

Ricky put lifted the cigarette to his mouth and took a deep breath in. The smoke and chocolate was an odd taste. He turned his head and blew the smoke back into the car, hoping to piss off his partner in the future. Ricky sat up some and picked up his binoculars. He held them up to his eyes and watched mayor Tinsley stroll out of his home.

He put his binoculars down and wrapped his fingers around his knife. The grip felt _so_ good in his hand… he should be waiting until tomorrow, but… what if…

Ricky frowned when his phone rang. He contemplated answering it for a while, almost too long, before finally picking it up.

“Detective Goldsworth,” he spoke without checking for the number.

“Rick, you gotta stop taking my car. Just bring your own next time.” Tinsley’s voice complained.

“Nah, yours is nicer. What's up?”

“We need to tell the uniforms about the murderer, since the place is so small a profile might just get us the person we need.” CC sounded excited, confident.

“You got it. The sheriff ever come in?”

“No. His wife said he never came home last night or this morning… I'm getting concerned.”

“Come on, what guy would have the balls to go after the _sheriff_ of all people?”

“Yeah. You're right. See you when you get here.” _Click_.

Ricky's mouth pulled into a hard frown as he watched the mayor's car pull away. He sighed and started the car he was in.

 _They haven't found him yet,_ he thought. _They haven't found them yet… maybe I should take Tinsley up on that park walk-through._

* * *

 

The profile was pretty basic.

Psychopath. Angry at the world, maybe at these men, after all the victims were police officers in training, or doctors and lawyers to-be… This monster was jealous of these people trying to get power and therefore killed them one by one. And if you know anyone like this tell us immediately and don't be scared to venture a guess.

CC and Ricky talked about the evidence. They talked about how the countdown might end on one or zero, how it was almost impressive how clean these cuts were, how precise. How the latest victim--Peter Rhea, the one training to be a cop--had signs of a struggle but was still overwhelmed, how those cuts were a _lot_ deeper than the others… Maybe the criminal was larger than Rhea? No, no, if that were the case there would be a lot more bruising. But not too small either, since there would be blunt force trauma or something to restrain him…

Ricky gave false leads but CC always led it back to the truth. Every red herring caught and released. It was positively infuriating and impossibly sexy at the same time. If they weren't at the PD, Ricky would love to pull him down by that ugly tie and push him against the wall and take off that jacket… well, he still wanted to but Tinsley wouldn't be a big fan. A pity, really.

“This case is getting to my head,” Tinsley finally said with a sigh.

“Why don't we walk through that park you mentioned? Um… um, what was it… Cofing park?”

“Loughlin park. Same family as the restaurant.” Tinsley nodded. “Sure. It wouldn't be bad to take a walk… long as you don't smoke there.”

“On the way there?” Ricky asked sweetly.

“... Fine, fine. On the way there.” Tinsley couldn't help but smile. Ricky went in for a kiss but Tinsley dodged to walk out the door instead.

“You're no fun.” Ricky forced down the urge to break the nearest table and followed behind his partner.

“We should walk instead, Connor,” Ricky said before they entered the car.

“What? Why?... Well, it's only a… Sure. Let's walk. I need to stretch out my alien-like long legs anyway.” Connor gave him a wink. They walked side-by-side, talking idly as Ricky refused to let the topic rest on the case.

“I missed this place,” Connor said quietly. “This is actually where I realized I was… you know.”

“And how'd that happen?” Ricky looked up at him with a smile.

“Uh, after a Homecoming dance this girl--older sister of Rhea, her names Tracy--walked with me here. She wasn't my date, I went alone, but she really liked hanging around me. She tried kissing me under the gazebo. I freaked out and told her that I hated her.” He chuckled and shook his head. “I didn't. She was sweet, but I didn't know what the word was then. Poor girl ran home crying… never talked to me again, for some reason.”

“Ouch. You're a heartbreaker, guess I should be careful.” Ricky laughed.

“Oh shut up. I was like, 16.”

“Whatever, whatever… why don't we visit that gazebo? Reignite old feelings… I sound like a pamphlet for the Bahamas.”

“You really do. Sure. It's a nice place to rest, if it's still there.” Connor smiled fondly at the thought of it.

They walked and walked a little more, but Connor had to kneel to tie his shoe.

“I told you to double knot them,” Ricky said with a hum. He casually looked over to the side. “Oh, hey. There's that gazebo you mentioned.” Ricky started walking toward it on the paved path before gasping and falling back onto the ground.

“Hey, are you okay?” CC stood up again.

“I-I… I think I found the sheriff.” Ricky's eyes were wide.

“What? What are you--” Tinsley stopped in his tracks when he saw the body. The detective forced a hand over his mouth to stop himself from puking. There was _so_ much blood, it was horrible.

“Oh my god. Oh my god.” He muttered under his breath repeatedly.

“One. He's the last one.” Ricky gulped.


	9. Chapter 9

Tinsley couldn't force himself to see the autopsy or the report of the dead sheriff. Even Dr. Fear was hesitant to do it.

Ricky gave his condolences, his apologies and his “I'm so sorry for your losses.” Ultimately he was excited but he hid it from the grieving parties.

“Connor, how are you holding up?” Ricky just loved the way his partner's name rolled off his tongue. The sad look on his face was bittersweet, however.

“He was a good man. Give you the shirt off your back if there was a cold breeze.” Tinsley didn't move. His eyes were focused on some nonexistent thing in the distance. The two were in the evidence room again, Ricky hiding the autopsy report from his partner.

“I'm sorry.”

“It's not your fault, Goldsworth… let's focus on the case. We need to catch this son of a bitch.” Tinsley’s voice was suddenly filled with such anger it shocked Ricky. He was totally into that.

“I know. I talked to the uniforms and they uh, there was one name that was common among the others. _Joseph Hamilton._ He's some high school dropout that works the night shift on a gas station on the edge of town. No one knows where he lives but he's always suave and charming… if he wasn't a junkie he'd probably have a wife by now.”

“Is he gonna come in?”

“He's here right now. Came in an hour ago, he's waiting in the, ah… “interrogation” room.” Ricky took that room with a grain of salt. After all, it was basically just an old bathroom that had been emptied of the plumbing and whatnot.

“Let's talk to him.” Tinsley pushed himself up. Before he could walk out the door, Ricky stopped him by putting a hand in his way.

“Are you sure you can do this?” He asked with genuine concern.

“Let me do my fucking job, Goldsworth.” Tinsley snapped and shoved his arm out of the way before finding his way to the interrogation room.

Getting his second look at Ricky, he was entirely sure he looked like a dejected extra from that one musical… Greece, right? Something like that. Ricky noticed all the signs of addiction immediately. Yellow fingers and nails, sunken eyes, the jitters, sleeves tightly wrapped around his arms despite the humid room… no doubt about it.

“Finally. It's about time someone got in here, it's been an hour! My boss is gonna be pissed!” Joseph Hamilton complained. Tinsley said nothing and instead slapped a case file on the metal table. The sound echoed in the room.

“Six victims.” His voice was cold. “Six good men dead at the hands of a monster.”

“... Is that what this is about?” Hamilton gave Ricky a look of disbelief-- _are you seeing this guy? You're the nice cop, stop him._

Ricky was usually the bad cop but whatever. He could change it up.

“Have you been read your rights?” Ricky asked instead. The man nodded slowly.

“Since approximately June 15, six people have been murdered.” Tinsley took out case photos of the bodies and sealed them out in front of the man. _Before_ pictures were paperclipped to the images of their gruesome corpses. Hamilton recoiled immediately, a look of horror and disgust on his face. It was immediately obvious that this man wasn’t the culprit they were

“Oh my god, is that--are those--” He gasped.

“You know _exactly_ what's going on there, you son of a bitch!” Tinsley slammed his hands on the table.

“Tinsley, relax.” Goldsworth said coolly.

“Dude! Control your partner!” Hamilton stood up from the chair he was in to get distance from the pissed detective. Tinsley, without hesitation, rushed to his side of the table and shoved him against the wall.

“You son of a _bitch!_ These were all good people! You just killed them because you're so fucking pathetic!” He screamed. Ricky had to forcefully pull his partner off the man, yelling at him all the while. Hamilton looked terrified, then angry, and grumbled something about a lawyer.

“What the _fuck_ is wrong with you?” Ricky hissed at his partner. The anger in his eyes threatened to spill out.

“That son of a bitch, I-I _knew_ the families of those people, I fucking know how they're reacting to the deaths and… god _damn_ it.” Tinsley forced himself to look away when his voice cracked. He covered his face with his hand to try and hide the hot tears coming from his eyes. “This is the last chance I have to make things right.”

“Jailing an innocent man won't fix all of that. Look, we can keep him for a while longer but we can't just sit around and accuse people. We need to focus. You can take a break, it won't kill you.”

“... Okay. Okay. I won't know what to do in the meantime…” Tinsley sniffed hard and rubbed his wet face.

“You should visit your dad. It's about time.” Ricky rubbed his partner's arm comfortingly. “I'll stay here, deal with the uniforms. Think you can go without me?”

“I should be okay… just, just keep your phone on you. And keep it _on,_ Goldsworth.”

“You got it.” Ricky smiled. Tinsley rubbed his face and his eyes again before heading out of the station. Ricky headed back to the evidence room and quickly jotted down ‘notes’ to act as if he had been thinking long and hard about the case. In reality, he had the notes scripted for this exact moment. He pulled a bandana from his bag and carefully wrapped it around his neck. He didn't really think it would get to this but hey, a man's gotta do what a man's gotta do.

Ricky left out a side exit from the station to avoid being seen. He knew that Tinsley would be at the hospital right now, so that's where he headed. It was a longer walk than he'd like but CC had the car so whatever. It was a nice day.

Ricky lit a cigarette when he sat down on a bench near the hospital doors. He was noticing the lack of cameras in this town but he still kept his distance. There weren't as many cars in the parking lot, though he figured faculty cars made up most of it. He could recognize Tinsley’s car near the doors. He probably got here about ten minutes ago. Which would mean…

Mortus Tinsley pulled up three minutes later. Ricky was considering lighting another cigarette but abandoned the thought when the car door opened. Ricky got to his feet and approached the man.

“Detective Goldsworth?” Mortus squinted at Ricky. He plucked a pair of glasses from his jacket pocket and fixed them on his nose. “What are you doing here?”

“I'm waiting for CC. He's visiting your father.” At his words, the mayor visibly cringed.

“Ah. I see. I was going to visit him as well, so if you'll excuse me…” Mortus went to walk to the doors but Ricky stopped him.

“Before that, I need to talk to you about something.” Ricky pulled a concerned face. “It's something about Connor.”

“Is he alright?” Mortus stopped immediately.

“Well… could you step over here for a moment? I'd rather not say it out in the open.”

“Of course, of course.” Mortus nodded quickly. Ricky led him to behind the hospital, an alleyway that separated it from a shop. “Please, tell me. Is he well?”

“See, Connor never really told me about his life. He didn't even like being called ‘Connor’ for a long while. He only recently told me he had a family.”

“What? Really?” Ricky wanted to slap him for saying that.

“Yes. Really.” Ricky put his hands in his pockets. His fingers curled around a knife. “He was shamed in his own home for what he couldn't control.”

“... Detective, what are you talking about?” The man looked genuinely confused. “Connor left of his own volition, we tried to make him stay.”

“Oh, you lying son of a--” Ricky rushed forward and shoved his fist into the other man's lower chest, jamming it up into his ribs. Mortus gasped as the air was taken from his lungs. He stumbled back but didn't have time to correct himself before Ricky kicked the legs out from beneath him. The detective yanked the bandana around his neck over the bottom half of his face and pinned the man down, his knee on his chest.

“You're a _liar,_ a fucking _monster._ Your sins are worse than any of mine!” Ricky growled in pure anger. Mortus was supposed to have an X carved into his chest, but as Ricky wrapped his fingers around his frail neck he figured this was a fitting punishment. Mortus’ hands clawed at Ricky's as he tried to get them off.

“ _The soul that sins,_ ” Ricky quoted in a voice shaking with rage. “ _It shall die!_ ”

Ricky knew how long manual strangulation took. Right now he couldn't care, right now his plan didn't matter. The man's eyes fluttered and he stopped struggling. Though he seemed dead, he was only unconscious. Soon his brain would have severe damage and soon after, he would be dead.

Ricky's well built glamor was ruined now, instead of looking like a model he looked like the psychopath he was. His hands pressed so hard on the man's windpipe he was hoping desperately for it to crack.

He was so focused, he didn't even realize there was yelling behind him. He only noticed the other person when he was ripped off the dying mayor, only noticed when Connor was punching him so hard he could feel his cheek bone crack. And suddenly he was laughing hard, laughing as Connor cuffed him so tightly his wrists bled with a single movement.

And then he just smiled--smiled in his partner's faced as he was screamed at, when Tinsley begged for his brother to wake up. Tinsley didn't even bother securing Ricky to anything, he was getting his brother inside the hospital as fast as possible.

And then he just stared. Stared when Tinsley shoved him against the brick wall in the alley with his gun pressed hard to his throat.

“Zero,” Ricky whispered.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :)


	10. Chapter 10

Ricky wasn't taken to an interrogation room at the Gonos PD. No, instead Tinsley drove him back to their own place. He made sure no one saw as he threw Ricky down into the metal chair.

Ricky smiled.

“Our anniversary was on the 15th, you know. Maybe you didn't.” Ricky spoke for the first time in hours.

“I-- _what?!_ ” Tinsley stared at him in disbelief.

“June 15th. First case we worked together. That was a while ago, wasn't it?” Ricky sat back in the seat. He always thought it was too comfortable for the criminals, but he supposed it didn't exactly matter much right now.

“God _damn_ it Goldsworth, why? Why would you do this to me?” He growled.

“What song was playing? It was by R.E.M. I think… ah, right.” Ricky nodded to himself.

“Ricky, _answer_ me. Please.”

“‘It starts with an earthquake, birds and snakes and aeroplanes…’” Ricky sung. Tinsley recognized the song, “It's The End Of The World” by R.E.M.

“You're not funny.”

“Oh, I'm not? You wound me, love.” Ricky finally gave a reaction.

“Listen to me, you sick fuck. Don't call me anything except ‘detective’ from here on out. Got it?”

“Sure thing, Connor.”

“I don't know what I expected from you,” Tinsley said shortly. He still didn't know how to act after… everything.

“If you want a confession, I killed them all. Speaking of, how's Morty? Is he dead yet?” Ricky grinned.

“He's doing fine. Thanks for asking.” Tinsley sat down in the seat across from his old partner. “You're enjoying this.”

“Is that a question?”

“No.”

“Oh, my smart Connor.” Ricky crossed his legs and leaned back in his seat. “You're so handsome when you're ready to strangle me.” Ricky sighed.

“You-- I have work to do, cleaning up the mess _you_ made.” Tinsley jutted a finger at Ricky.

“Come on, baby, we've gone through worse.” Ricky spread his hands as much as the handcuffs were willing to let him… which was barely anything. “Why don't you take these off and we can talk like we usually do?”

“Your face is swollen.”

“Thanks.”

“You're really a handful.” Tinsley grunted and pushed himself up. “Look, Ricky--when you really want to talk, let's talk. Until then…” Tinsley walked out the door and slammed the door shut behind him. Ricky smiled--he loved it when CC played hard to get.

Ricky smiled and waited for a while. A long while, to make sure no one was watching him through the one sided glass. Tinsley was too proud to let anyone know just yet and he wouldn't stay behind the glass for too long.

Ricky had been patted down for weapons but of course, he always had a trick up his sleeve. Now it was literal. Imbedded in his jacket was a slim piece of metal--he struggled with the seam for a moment, cursing himself for sewing it so tightly. He winced when the cuffs irritated the wounds they had caused. He forced the metal into the small space meant for the key and with some struggling, the cuffs clattered onto the table. His wrists were very bloody.

“How annoying,” he muttered. He tugged the sleeves of his jacket down and fixed his hair in the reflective glass. Damn, he looked a mess. Whatever, it was part of the job.

Ricky Goldsworth walked out of the interrogation room without a problem in the world. He smiled at another detective and laughed off the bruising--he said it was some fault of a lowlife who didn't want to be arrested. The detective rolled his eyes and nodded before walking off. Ricky went to his office and picked up a few things before walking out to his car.

Ricky looked over at Tinsley’s car. He shrugged off his jacket and wrapped it around his fist before smashing the back window of Tinsley’s car. He winced and shook the pain off his fist and grabbed his bag. He walked to his own car and unlocked it before getting inside.

He wrapped his wrists with a roll of bandages and casually drove away. When he was far enough away from the precinct, he parked in some empty parking lot of a closed shopping center. He reached into the glove box and pulled out a ring box. Inside was a ring he had been planning to give Connor, to mark the anniversary, but that obviously didn't go as planned.

Ricky sighed and put the ring on himself. He clenched his fist, smiling some when he saw it shine on his finger. His smile fell and he shut his eyes, resting his head back on the seat.

“We've had good times, Tinsley.” Ricky muttered under his breath. “I really do love you. I'll miss you, too. Until next time, then…”

Ricky opened his phone, surprised it still had a charge. He called someone and started the car up again.

“Hey, Orpheus. Yeah. It's me. I need a favor…”

* * *

 

“What do you _mean_ he's gone?!” Tinsley yelled at the detective meant to guard Ricky's interrogation room.

“I didn't--what's wrong with it? The suspect didn't leave the room, I've been here the whole time.” The detective was confused.

“You fucking idiot! Goldsworth is the suspect! I need a trace on his car right fucking now…” Tinsley ran his hands through his hair anxiously. When he felt the rest of the departments’ eyes on him, he snapped. “What are you waiting for?! Get to it, god damn it! I want his fucking mug on every news station yesterday!”


End file.
